


Reindeer

by perhapsaperson



Series: Holiday advent challenge 2019 [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21963187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsaperson/pseuds/perhapsaperson
Summary: As the Stark family celebrates Christmas, Rickon has an odd new fixation that Robb and Jon try to support.Holiday advent challenge day 8 prompt: reindeer
Relationships: Jon Snow & Arya Stark & Bran Stark & Rickon Stark & Robb Stark & Sansa Stark
Series: Holiday advent challenge 2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566133
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	Reindeer

**Author's Note:**

> This was just gonna be a short, funny thing about how Theon doesn't know what a reindeer is, but it kind of got away from me. This is set in an au that I've thought a lot about but haven't written, where Ned and Cat die and Robb and Jon are left to raise their siblings.

“Did you know reindeer and caribou are the same thing?” 

Jon spins around to find Rickon, having taken a cookie off the counter which is, incidentally, in the shape of a reindeer. He takes a bite of the cookie while looking seriously at Sam. Jon, of course, has already heard this fact from his brother several times.

Sam gives Jon a quick, uncertain glance, and Jon nods encouragingly towards Rickon. Sam had always been a little uncomfortable around Jon’s younger sibling, or any children really. He claimed he didn’t know what to say to them.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Sam says. “I always thought they were two different species.”

“Nope,” Rickon says cheerfully, shaking his head. “People used to think they were, but it turns out they’re all the same one. There are a bunch of different subspecies though. The biggest one is the woodland Caribou, they live in North America. The smallest is the Svalbard Reindeer, which live in Norway.”

“That’s interesting,” Says Sam, sounding totally sincere even as he sends Jon a questioning look.

In honesty, Jon was about as confused about Rickon’s latest obsession as he was. He knew this particular interest had started when he’d read a book or reindeer facts at school, but he’d never expected reindeer to be an animal to excite an eight year old.

Rickon’s interests always seemed to catch Jon off-guard, though, as he seemed to jump almost randomly from one fixation to the next, the previous ones usually all but forgotten.

That was one of the reasons he and Robb were having trouble finding what to get their youngest brother for Christmas. It was pretty clear what he would like then, at that moment, but there was no telling if he’d still be invested in this topic by the time the holiday actually rolled around, even though it was only a few weeks away.

“You know where the word caribou comes from?” Rickon continues, eager to give to his whole spiel now that he has a captive audience.

“I don’t” Sam says.

“It’s from an old Mi’kmaq word which meant ‘shovelling snow’.”

“Oh yeah?”

Rickon nods confidently. “And you know Santa’s reindeer?”

“Sure.”

“They were probably all female, because adult male reindeer shed their antlers in the winter, but the females keep them year-round.”

“Huh. I never knew about that,” Sam says. He still seems a little nervous.

“Most people don’t,” Rickon says. “Only know their names.” He shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth.

\- - -

“What’s your favourite animal?” Rickon asks the question with an odd attentiveness, as if taking mental notes. Robb almost hesitates to answer. 

“Wolves, I think.”

Rickon nods thoughtfully while Jon, across the room, huffs a laugh.

“What?” Robb protests.

“Nothing,” Jon says. “Just, that’s very middle school.”

“Oh, shut up,” Robb says. He’s about to follow up with some sort of counter-attack, but he’s interrupted by Rickon, who’d moved on from Robb to interrogate Theon.

“What about you?”

Theon, who was previously busy stuffing his face with crackers - Robb’s crackers that he’d taken without asking, Robb notes - and takes a moment to swallow before answering.

“Squids, for sure,” he says, nodding confidently.

“Ew,” Sansa says, not looking up from where she sat a the table, drawing.

“No ew,” Theon says. “They’re majestic animals. Kings of the sea. Not to mention delicious.”

“Again, ew.”

Theon sticks his tongue out at her, though of course she doesn’t notice, still absorbed in her drawing.

Arya looks up from looking through Pokemon cards with Bran long enough to say, to Sansa, “I’m definitely getting you a live squid for Christmas.” Sansa just rolls her eyes in response. 

“What about you, kiddo?” Theon says, turning back to Rickon. “What’s your favourite animal?”

Rickon looks thoughtful. “I have lots, but right now I like reindeer.”

“No, I mean like a real animal,” Theon says offhandedly.

At that, everyone looks up from what their doing to stare at Theon.

“What?” He says.

“Reindeer are real animals,” Rickon says matter-of-factly.

“What? No they’re not.” He looks confident at first, but hesitates as he looks around a the incredulous looks he’s getting from the older Starks. Jon appears to be surpressing laughter.

“You know, reindeer,” he continues, with considerably less confidence. “Those made up animals that pull Santa’s sleigh?”

Rickon looks remarkably unimpressed for a seven year old.

“Theon, you absolute dumbass,” Arya says. Jon bursts out laughing.

“Arya!” Robb shouts, but she’s already making a speedy escape from the room.

Robb momentarily considers going after her, but decides it’s not worth it.

“You really didn’t know reindeer were real?” Robb asks, voice laced with amusement.

“Shut up,” Theon says.

\- - -

Theon plucks a large plush reindeer off the shelf.

“What about this?” He turns to Robb quizzically. “Do you think he’ll like it? Or is he too old for this stuff, you think?”

Robb is ashamed to say he’s not sure because his parents had always been there to help pick out gifts for his siblings, and that they were the ones who kept track of which toys they were interested in and which ones they’d grown out of. They’d always done a really good job of it.

Theon is still looking at him, waiting for a response, and it was already really nice of Theon to go out and buy gifts for all Robb and Jon’s younger siblings, because he cared and because they deserved it. It was the thought that counted, Robb thought, and Theon had kept up with his brothers interests enough to know he liked reindeer, at least. He would give some more thought to Rickon’s exact preferences later, when buying his own gifts.

“I think he’d like it,” Robb says, sounding more confident than he feels.

Theon smiles in satisfaction and strikes off to find something for Bran.

Robb lingers for a minute, glancing around the aisle. It was stocked full of reindeer themed items, because of course it was, because it was Christmas. That should’ve made it easier to find something his brother would like, but was actually making it harder because he didn’t know what to chose.

It’s now the second christmas since their parents died, and Robb should be better at this. He should be able to keep track of his siblings interests, predict what kind of gifts they’d like. He could feel it again, that crushing feeling in his chest, like - 

“Hey, are you coming , or -” Theon appears by his side again, but something stops him when he sees Robb. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he says, feeling a little hopeless.

\- - -

“Can you draw me a reindeer?” Rickon asks, sitting down next to Sansa at the kitchen table, where she’s busy drawing.

“What for?”

“I dunno,” he says. “They’re just cool.”

“Sure,” she says, which surprises Robb a little. She rarely responds so well to her younger siblings’ requests.

Robb half keeps an eye on them while washing the dishes. Not because he needs to, but more out of instinct.

Rickon leans over the table and watches intently as she works. When she’s done, she hands him the paper with flourish, and he takes it, grinning.

“Cool, thanks,” he says.

“You know,” Sansa says, half-smiling. “If you want, I can show you how to draw one yourself.”

“Really?” He asks, wide-eyed.

“Mhmm,” she nods. “Wanna try?”

He nods vigorously, and she hands him a paper. Robb turns away, smiling.

They’re mostly quiet after that, Sansa intermittently offering instructions or encouragement. Robb finishes up the dishes and drifts out of the room. He glances over at them before leaving, and they’re both still quite engrossed.

He finds himself at the living room window. It’s a cold day, the window is heavily frosted. Robb wipes some away. The world outside is already covered in a thick blanket of snow and it’s still coming down pretty hard, almost a blizzard. Robb’s not sure why, but he always found it calming, watching the snow come down.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, staring out the window, before his brother comes out of the kitchen and joins him. He glances outside, like he’s trying to see what Robb finds so interesting.

“Here,” he says, holding up the paper in his hands. “For you.”

“For me?”

Rickon nods, watching him expectantly.

He looks down at the drawing. It’s quite a good drawing of a reindeer, for a kid, Sansa’s lesson must’ve been effective. It doesn’t look like a cartoon drawing at all, but like a real reindeer, except that it’s nose is coloured bright red. Next to the reindeer is what looks like a wolf. He’s ever signed the bottom of the paper, his name written in big, messy letters with a green marker.

“It’s a good reindeer,” Robb says, nodding at his brother.

“Thanks,” says Rickon. “They don’t really have red noses, but I thought it was seasonal.”

Robb laughs. “It sure is.” He points to the other animal in the drawing. “And that’s a wolf?”

Rickon shrugs. “You said you liked them.”

Robb feels himself grinning. “I did,” he says. “I do. Thank you. This is really nice.”

Rickon smiles. Robb ruffles his hair. “You’re a good kid, you know,” Robb says.

“Stop,” Rickon whines, pushing his hand away, but still smiling. He moves up in front of the window, resting his arms agains the windowsill and staring outside. 

“Do you think we can see one, one day?” He asks softly, after a long moment of silence. “Like, in real life?”

“I don’t think they have reindeer here,” Robb says.

“What about in a zoo or something?”

Robb smiles. “Sure. Someday, I’ll take you to a zoo and we can see some reindeer, okay?”

He nods silently, still staring out the window. He’s getting taller, Robb notices, growing up before his eyes. They’ve all grown so much since - everything that happened. Robb wishes they didn’t have to, but there’s nothing he can do. All he can do is try to look after them, like their parents would have.

He messes Rickon’s hair again, and this time his brother doesn’t pull away.

\- - -

On Christmas Eve, John shepherds his younger brothers to bed and they don’t try to right with him.

Afterwards, he helps Robb clean up the kitchen, makes sure all the gifts are ready for tomorrow, and makes sure Sansa and Arya get to bed on time.

Everything that needs to be done today is done, and Jon goes by the front hall to turn off the porch light. He stops short when he sees Rickon, by the door, pulling on his boots. He’s got a jacket on, but is still wearing his pyjamas underneath.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jon asks. His brother looks up, startled.

“Nowhere?” He offers

“Nowhere?” Jon asks skeptically. 

Rickon nods, shifting his eyes guiltily.

“Well, if you weren’t going anywhere, then you should go back to bed,” Jon says. He walks up to the door and locks it firmly. He looks down at his brother, waiting for an answer.

Rickon looks conflicted for a moment, then resigned. “I was just going to the church,” he says.

Now Jon is just confused. “In the middle of the night? Why?”

Rickon just shrugs.

Jon continues cautiously, trying to roll with it. “If you wanted to go to the service, you should’ve said so earlier, we could’ve -”

“No, not that,” Rickon says. “We didn’t go into the church. We just waited outside. So we could hear the music.”

“We?”

“Mum used to take me,” he says softly. “She would come get me, after I was supposed to be in bed, and we’d go together.”

“Oh,” Jon says, because he doesn’t know what to say. The two of them are silent for a moment, Rickon stares at the ground.

“What if - ” Jon starts hesitantly. “How about I take you instead? Would that be okay.”

Rickon looks up, nodding carefully. “Okay,” he says.

“Put a hat on, though,” Jon says. “And some gloves. You’ll get cold.”

They walk down the street together, cutting through the snowy fields behind the houses. 

They stop at a low stone wall surrounding the church. It’s a small thing, old but well maintained, and warm light spills out of the windows. Jon had never paid it much attention before. All he knew was that their mother liked to come here sometimes, that it gave her some sort of comfort. Jon had secretly been a little dismissive; as a younger teenager he’d been quite cynical about religion. Tonight, though, he had to admit it looked beautiful.

Jon pulls himself up onto the wall. “Here,” he says, reaching down to lift his brother up. He sits Rickon in his lap so he’s not against the cold stone in his pyjamas, and Rickon doesn’t squirm or pull away.

The music starts slow, the sounds of a choir singing spilling gently out the open door. Songs Jon recognizes, mostly, silent night and the like. He’d never had any special affection for Christmas songs, either of the religious or secular variety, at least not since he’d gotten old enough to enter his edgy teen phase.

Right now though, as the sound drifts lightly out of the church, the only sound in the dark, cool night, the stars twinkling above them, it was so beautiful it was almost surreal.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Rickon says.

“Yeah, it is.”

“It’s a nice night.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I wish mum was here.” He’s so quiet Jon almost doesn’t hear him over the singing.

Jon pulls him in tighter. “I know. Me too.”

The music washes over them, and Jon feels a lightness in his chest.

“We’re gonna be okay, you know,” he says softly.

“I know, Jon,” he says. 

Jon sits on the wall with his brother, listening to the music, until Rickon falls asleep, and Jon carries him home.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, happy holidays everyone!


End file.
